


Walking on a Tightrope Wire

by NathalieWeasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: samhain_smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Infidelity, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathalieWeasley/pseuds/NathalieWeasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't take me for granted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking on a Tightrope Wire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for samhain_smut on LJ based on the prompt: Pansy is tired of being a married woman's plaything on the side and at the Ministry's Halloween Ball (Or insert appropriate Samhain gathering of your choice), she's determined to find a woman who's sexy and single. It's only an added bonus if she can do it within the married woman's sights. Thank you to marianna_merlo for the beta. :D Title comes from “I'm walking on a tightrope wire / So afraid to fall” – Ron Pope, Tightrope.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Pansy looks in the mirror, double checking every facet of her appearance. She needs to look _perfect_ tonight. Tonight is the night she is going to show Hermione that she is not content to be a mistress, a plaything available at her lover’s every whim. Pansy is worth more. 

The leather of Pansy’s costume hugs her skin beautifully. The only skin she has showing are her hands, face behind the small black mask, and a hint of breast, though nothing is really left to the imagination in the full-length, leather cat suit. The corseted top highlights her breasts and trim waist, and the silver buckle of the belt is placed exactly where she wants Hermione’s eyes to go. After a few quick charms, one to make her ears more catlike and one to seal her red lipstick on for the night, Pansy is ready. She spins on her heeled boots and Disapparates.

\--

Fuck, she looks gorgeous. 

Pansy is not quite sure who Hermione is supposed to be, but the slim, short-as-fuck dress and slip of lace across her eyes are driving Pansy wild. She wants to touch, for fuck’s sake.

Pansy mentally shakes herself and scans the room. She needs to find an eligible, sexy woman to flirt with…there! Astoria Malfoy (recently divorced, quite scandalously, because of a series of photos featuring her and her rather fit “nanny”) is dressed in some sort of white, feathery, glittery _thing_. Her face is covered with a similarly white, feathery, glittery mask, and, Pansy must admit, she looks quite good. The white of the dress and mask set off her pale skin and blonde hair, creating an angelic impression. She’ll do. Pansy heads over.

\--

Astoria is not particularly receptive.

“Is there a specific reason you are shoving your breasts in my face, Parkinson?” Astoria raises one perfectly tweezed eyebrow, visible through her mask’s eyeholes. “Does it have anything to do with your failed… _dalliance_ with Mrs. Weasley?”

Pansy’s gaze drifts away from where Hermione is smiling at her husband (who, nauseatingly, is dressed as a baby, complete with bonnet, bottle, and nappy) and she almost splutters. “Who told you?”

Astoria smirks. “You just did, my dear. Though, to be honest, it’s rather obvious.”

Pansy stares.

Astoria sighs. “Well, perhaps not to the average observer, but as someone who has an…understanding of extramarital relations, the looks you two are exchanging are quite heated.”

Pansy flushes. She hopes no one else in the ballroom is aware of the looks between her and Hermione. Her goal tonight is to send a message to Hermione, to tell her she is not just some plaything on the side. Hermione has to make a decision: Pansy or her husband.

Astoria is waving a hand in Pansy’s face. “Dear Merlin, this girl really has you hooked! Hmm, what did you have in mind?”

“Excuse me?” It is Pansy’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Astoria rolls her eyes. “Oh, come off it, Parkinson. You want to make her jealous; otherwise, you wouldn’t have come over here and attempted to seduce me.” Pansy grinds her teeth at “attempted.” “I know I don’t fit your usual preferences, dear. You have a thing for…dowdy females.” 

Pansy snarls, and Astoria seems taken aback. “Oh, so it’s serious? My, my. Well then, shall we?” she offers her glittery, gloved hand to Pansy.

“And what, may I ask, are we doing?” 

Astoria’s smile makes Pansy want to shudder. “We, my dear, are showing Mrs. Weasley exactly what she’s missing.”

Pansy follows Astoria out to the dance floor. At this hour, most of the older Ministry workers have left, and the music has become distinctly raunchier. Astoria pulls Pansy close and wraps an arm around Pansy’s waist. Pansy is going to spend forever getting glitter off leather. Astoria rocks her hips seductively against Pansy’s, and all Pansy can think of is what Hermione makes of the sight. As they turn on the dance floor, Pansy gets a quick glimpse of Hermione, and it is difficult to keep the smirk off her face. Hermione is _glaring_ at Astoria, and Pansy debates warning her; Hermione is a powerful witch. She shivers, remembering some of spells Hermione is capable of performing.

–

Another twirl, and Pansy feels herself yanked from Astoria’s side and meets seething (but truly beautiful) brown eyes. She barely has time to utter a, “Well hello, Hermione,” before Hermione silences her with a kiss and replaces Astoria’s hips with her own. There is no build-up. The heated glances Hermione and Pansy have been exchanging transform into a heated, passionate kiss in the middle of the dance floor as the two women sway to beat of the music, arms wrapped around each other. Pansy savours the taste of her lover, and their tongues intertwine so easily. Pansy lowers her mouth to Hermione’s neck and sucks at her tender skin, nipping, tasting, _ravishing_. She revels in the moans Hermione is making and moans herself as Hermione slides her hands over Pansy’s leather-clad hips. 

Someone coughs. Pansy whimpers as Hermione takes a step back. 

Astoria is smirking. “As much as I admire the view, you two might want to take this oh-so-sweet reunion somewhere a little more private.” She winks.

Pansy looks at Hermione. Hermione, eyes dark with lust, nods quickly and pulls Pansy from the Atrium to the lifts amidst catcalls and whistles. Pansy refuses to look at the husband that Hermione has just blatantly cuckholded as the two enter a lift. As the lift rises, Pansy turns a confused face to Hermione.

“Is there a particular reason you don’t mind snogging your lover with your husband in the room?”

Hermione gives her an exasperated smile.

“Pansy, you don’t hear anything after an orgasm, do you?

Pansy frowns. “I fail to see the relevance.”

Hermione begins pushing Pansy backwards. “The relevance, my love, is that I told you I was going to leave Ron last week. I asked him for a divorce this morning.”

Pansy is against the wall of the lift, her mouth gaping.

“Really? You’re leaving him? For me?”

Hermione smiles, though there is a hint of deviousness in her eyes that make Pansy ache. “Yes, Pansy. I told you all of this. My relationship with Ron has been stagnant for years. I informed him today that I had found someone suits me better, who challenges me, who _loves_ me.” Pansy swallows. “Now. Can we please stop talking about my soon to be ex-husband and shag in the lift?”

Pansy spins Hermione around into the wall. “No,” she whispers in Hermione’s ear, pressing her body against the curves she has missed and sending goosebumps down Hermione’s skin. “We’re going to go to your office, and I am going to show you exactly how happy you have just made me.”

The lift halts and the doors open, and Pansy and Hermione don’t bother listening to the cool voice announcing the level before they exit the lift and quickly walk down the hall, exchanging small kisses and heated looks.

The door to Hermione’s office closes. Pansy presses Hermione against the wooden frame, pinning her hands above her head. She resumes her work on Hermione’s neck, lapping at the small bruise that has formed. This taste, this body, this woman. Suddenly, kissing Hermione’s neck isn’t enough. She steps back and pulls at the short dress. 

“Off.”

Hermione swallows harshly and grabs her wand. A quick wave, and they are naked. Pansy stands still for a moment, her eyes devouring the body in front of her. Hermione’s chest is heaving, her breasts flushed and nipples pebbled. With trembling hands, Pansy runs a finger down Hermione’s side and over her hip, relishing the feel of the creamy skin. Hermione closes her eyes in pleasure. Pansy leans down and places a kiss on one pink nipple, and Hermione whimpers. The sounds make Pansy instantly wet, and she kneels, wanting to worship this woman.

As Pansy licks a trail down her abdomen, Hermione places her hands in Pansy’s hair. She clenches her hands into fists at the first swipe Pansy makes at her clit. Pansy makes broad strokes of her tongue across Hermione’s quim and raises her hand to stroke against her inner thighs before teasing Hermione with light swipes across her clit. Hermione’s familiar, musty taste is an aphrodisiac at Pansy’s lips, and she buries her face between Hermione’s thighs, trying to immerse herself in pure Hermione as Hermione quivers and shudders around her. One last lick and Hermione clenches her thighs. Hard. Pansy continues to taste her lover, lapping up every drop of Hermione’s release.

Hermione sinks to the floors with her eyes closed, and Pansy encircles her in her arms, whispering loving words she isn’t processing into Hermione’s ear. Hermione turns slightly and kisses Pansy, sharing in the taste of her release. The kiss is slower and more languid than their earlier ones, and Pansy relaxes in the sheer love and feeling of the moment.


End file.
